


I'd Get On My Knees (Confess My Love)

by fvnwithgvns



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Aftercare, Blowjobs, Dom!Patrick, Dom/sub, Fingering, Fluff, M/M, PWP, Smut, Sub pete is the truth and the government knows it, Sub!Pete
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 03:25:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13515645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fvnwithgvns/pseuds/fvnwithgvns
Summary: Shameless smut because I'm at the recording studio with nothing to do.





	I'd Get On My Knees (Confess My Love)

Despite what appearances may say, Pete doesn’t always get what he want when it comes to relationships.

 

Take Patrick, for example. Going by what looks say (and the majority of Fall Out Boy fans think), Pete should be the controlling one. The dominant one. 

 

Haven’t you ever heard that looks can be deceiving?

 

“Such a pretty, pretty whore,” Patrick croons, the back of his hand caressing Pete’s cheek. “All needy and ready for me.”

 

Pete whines in response, shifting so the plug sitting inside him just manages to brush his prostate. It’s good, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough until he gets Patrick. And Lord only knows how long that’ll take. Patrick loves to tease, loves to reduce Pete to a whining, pleading mess. 

 

Patrick’s hands ghost over Pete’s chest. His tongue soon follows, licking stripes down Pete’s body, marked by the occasional nip that makes Pete cry out. He wants to cry, wants to sob and beg his boyfriend for more. He  _ needs _ more. He feels like he’ll die without it. 

 

And there’s a tear rolling down his cheek, seemingly out of nowhere. He doesn’t mean for it to happen, he just can’t control it. He’s been waiting for days, weeks almost, waiting and wanting and needing. 

 

“Shh,  _ mon amour _ , I’ll take care of you, you know I will, don’t you?” Patrick’s voice is soft, quiet; it somehow calms Pete down. He sniffles, trying to move a hand up to brush the tear away before he remembers they’re cuffed behind him. Patrick gets the hint and reaches up, gently brushing Pete’s cheek. 

 

“Tell you what,” Patrick continues, “If you can last five minutes, just five more minutes, I’ll fuck you and I’ll let you cum. Think you can be quiet and still for five minutes?”

 

Pete nods, his eyes pleading. 

 

“Good boy,” Patrick praises. “Five minutes starts now.”

 

_ Five minutes,  _ Pete tells himself.  _ You can do it for five minutes.  _

 

Patrick immediately gets to work, peppering kisses down Pete’s body, stopping to leave the occasional mark, biting down on Pete’s collarbone, on his nipples, on the inside of his thighs. There’s going to be marks, no doubt about it. 

 

Pete almost gives when Patrick moves from between his thighs, suddenly swallowing around his cock. He moves slowly, bobbing his head up and down, hollowing his cheeks, running his tongue over the head in the way he knows drives Pete crazy.

 

Patrick moans around him, sending tremors down Pete’s spine. He wants to move so badly, wants to buck his hips up and fuck Patrick’s throat until he cums. 

 

He wants to, but instead he lies there, following orders like a good boy. 

 

It has to have been five minutes already, right? It seems like it was ages ago he agreed to be still. 

 

As if reading Pete’s mind, Patrick stops his ministrations long enough to say, “Three more minutes.” 

 

_ Fuck, has it really only been two minutes? _ Pete wonders.

 

Pete doesn’t have much time to wonder, as Patrick immediately goes back to sucking Pete off like he’s getting paid for it. Pete almost screams as his cock hits the back of Patrick’s throat, and Patrick swallows him deeper. 

 

The next three minutes are pure torture, Patrick pressing between Pete’s hipbones as he continuously sucks, doing fucking magical things with his tongue. He holds Pete’s legs up, almost folding him in half. Just as Pete thinks he can’t take any more, Patrick stops abruptly. 

 

“You made it,” Patrick raises an eyebrow, looking surprised. “Good boy. You did so good, my pretty boy.”

 

Pete whines, an incoherent whimper. 

 

“True,” Patrick says, as if reading Pete’s mind, “I have a promise to keep.” 

 

Patrick rummages in the bedside table, pulling out an almost empty tube of lube. He takes no time slicking up his fingers, pulling Pete’s plug out, and pushing two inside him, leaving him no time to adjust. He scissors them, stretching Pete out in just the right way. He leans up to kiss Pete, a soft, chaste kiss, not at all matching the filthy things he’s doing to Pete with his fingers.

 

Two soon becomes three and finally,  _ finally  _ there’s the stretch and the burn that Pete’s been craving. He moans, far more loudly than he means to. Patrick breaks the kiss and grins in response, shoving his fingers deeper inside Pete. Pete cries out, shoving his hips back against Patrick. “Fuck, more please, aH, please, more,” Pete babbles, not entirely aware of what he’s saying. 

 

“Please what?” Patrick asks, his fingers immediately stilling inside Pete.

 

“Please, sir,” Pete says, his voice almost breaking.

 

“You want more, babyboy?” Patrick asks, twisting his fingers. “You want me inside you, huh?”

 

“Yes, God, please, sir, I’ve never wanted anything more, I need you, please,” Pete’s almost crying at this point, circling his hips for just the tiniest bit of friction. 

 

“Well.” Patrick stops to slick himself up. “If you insist,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

 

Pete’s babbling incoherently as Patrick pushes in, centimeter by centimeter, going as agonizingly slow as possible. It’s soft; romantic; but now’s not the time for that. Now’s the time when Pete needs Patrick slamming into him, fucking him so hard he won’t be able to walk tomorrow. He needs that. He needs Patrick. 

 

Once Patrick’s settled inside him Pete relaxes a little. It isn’t exactly what he needs, but he’s full and stretched and that’s enough for now.

 

“What do you say?” Patrick prompts.

 

“Thank you sir,” Pete says breathlessly, knowing what his response should be. 

 

“Welcome, baby.” Patrick grins and starts to move his hips, going slow at first, the picking up the pace slightly.

 

“More, God, fuck me Patrick, please, sir, please,” Pete’s nearly screaming by now, everything is too much and not enough and he wants and he needs and all he can think is  _ Patrick Patrick Patrick.  _

 

“Since you’ve been such a good boy, I think I will.” Patrick punctuates his sentence with a particularly hard thrust, making Pete cry out. 

 

Patrick starts to slam into him and finally Pete feels like he’s getting what he needs. He’s shaking, he knows he is, he’s rolling his hips and shoving them forward to meet Patrick’s thrusts. It’s good, so good, and Patrick hasn’t even touched him yet.

 

As if on cue, Patrick reaches between their bodies and strokes Pete slowly. As he does, he pushes in deeper, hitting Pete’s prostate dead on. It’s too much, and Pete is reduced to a whining, incoherent mess, babbling his thanks to Patrick. 

 

Patrick continues to slam into Pete, every thrust sending a shock through Pete’s body and settling between his hips. He can feel pre-cum leaking onto his stomach, but he honestly doesn’t care. 

 

“You feel so good, babyboy, you’re doing so good,” Patrick praises, sending a wave of heat through Pete’s stomach. “So pretty for me, taking everything I give you like a good little whore.” 

 

Pete whines at Patrick’s words, clenching around him. Patrick moans in response, a low, deep sound that drives Pete crazy. He’s close, so close, but he wants this to last as long as possible. His heart is pounding, he’s covered in sweat and pre-cum and it only makes everything better, the slide of his cock between their bodies just what he needs. 

 

Patrick reaches down to stroke Pete again and he’s a fucking goner. “Please, Patrick, let me cum, I need to cum,” he says, his voice pitchy and breathless.

 

“Beg.” It’s a simple command, and one Pete is all too eager to follow. 

 

“Please, sir, please let me cum, I need it, you feel so good inside me, please, I’ve been good for you, please.” Pete’s voice breaks on the last ‘please’, so it sounds more like a whimper than anything else. 

 

“Mmm. Good boy.” Patrick reaches down, wrapping his hand around Pete’s dick and stroking him just once. “Cum for me.”

 

Pete doesn’t need to be told twice. His hips jackknife against Patrick’s hand, cum landing on his stomach. He’s shaking, his vision is going black, and he’s never felt so good in his life. He can almost hear a choir of angels singing and it’s Patrick’s moans as he cums inside him, filling him up and marking Pete as his and his only. 

 

The next thing Pete knows Patrick is pressing a bottle of water up to his lips. “Drink,” he says, his voice soft. 

 

Pete obeys, barely able to move through the ache and drowsiness that’s overcome him. Luckily, Patrick does the moving for him, unlocking his handcuffs and massaging his wrists, pulling out a washcloth from Lord knows where and wiping off Pete’s stomach.

 

“You did so good, looked so pretty, felt so good,” Patrick praises as he cleans Pete up. A warmth settles throughout his body, knowing he did well for Patrick. He just wants to be good. “My good boy, so good for me.” 

 

Pete falls asleep with Patrick whispering praise in his ear, holding him close, and telling him he loves him. 


End file.
